Yule With the Gods
by TerraZeal
Summary: Chapter 2: Malik watches the Martha Stewart show, Jergal grows a third arm, and Cyric likes talking to himself. Stupidity and character bashing.
1. Mystra's Stupid Idea

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot. I don't own any giant spiders, either.

WARNING: This is a parody. If your favorite character seems out of character, pay it no mind. I have nothing against any particular character except Mystra and Kelemvor, whom I loathe with a passion. If it seems like I'm making Mystra and Kelemvor particularly stupid, that's because I am. I apologize in advance for this awful piece of Mystra-bashing. Also, this is before Bane returns. Just in case anyone misses the Black Lord.

_**Yule With the Gods**_

Chapter 1: **Mystra's Idea**

Mystra, goddess of magic, guardian of the weave, was very bored. It was three weeks until Yule, and she was missing the wondrous celebrations from when she happened to be a mortal named Midnight. It was during one of these thoughts that her dead patriarch, Adon, came to mind. With Adon's help, Mystra just might be able to arrange for a Yule celebration

The goddess leapt up and shouted for Adon in such a fervor of excitement that it caused all the spellcasters of Faerun to misfire spells.

-Somewhere in Shadowdale-

Elminster of Shadowdale was casting a particularly complex spell when Mystra let out her gasp of excitement. His misfired spell caused him to explode and end up back in the Abyss. The sage let out a string of curses and was instantly eaten by a giant spider. Oh well!

-Back in Dweomerheart-

Adon, though dead, was still considered a favorite of his goddess. The fool was lavished with all of the gifts of the goddess (such as an endless supply of Furbies) but he still wasn't happy. In some dark, twisted (or just stupid) part of himself he wanted to be alive again. Perhaps it was this idiocy that brought him scrambling to his goddess like a faithful dog. _Maybe she'll return me to life again! Or bestow upon me even more Furbies! _Adon thought excitedly.

Scrambling through the corridors of Dweomerheart, Adon tripped twice and would have broken his neck and died but he was already dead so that was irrelevant. Finally, he found the goddess of Magic's throne room. Prostrating himself before the goddess, Adon foolishly said a few prayers and praised Sune. Yes, Sune. Apparently, Mr. Idiot still hasn't let go of the past. Tsk, tsk.

Mystra smiled her happy, loving smile for Adon and reached out to pat him on the head like a puppy. "Adon! My dead friend...er...DEAR friend. I've just had to most wonderful idea. I was thinking that I should arrange a holiday party for the Circle of Twelve. That is, the greater powers. What do you think of this?"

Adon was completely stumped, but that was nothing new to him. He had been stumped his entire life. The foolish boy just grinned stupidly at his goddess/friend.

Mystra smacked her forehead in frustration. She had just realized that summoning Adon was a very bad idea. Adon was an idiot. She should have summoned her most powerful Chosen, the sage of Shadowdale. Speaking of Elminster...where was he? Mystra no longer felt his presence near her. Stupefied, the Lady of Magic sent out an avatar to look for the wizard.

Meanwhile, she sent Adon back to his special place, which looked very much like a kindergarten class room. Adon immediately returned to playing with his Furby, which was black with small tufts of white fur. The dead man tickled the Furby's belly. "Ka-way-loh-koko!" The furby shouted something in gibberish. Mystra's dead friend was overjoyed at how much Drizzt (his furby) loved him.

-Somwhere in Icewind Dale-

Drizzt Do'Urden let out a great sneeze and fell out of his chair. For a moment, the dark elf had a strange desire to vandalize Mystra's temples. NO ONE BAD-MOUTHS DRIZZT DO'URDEN AND LIVES! The drow sneezed again and was instantly eaten by a giant spider. Oh well!

-Back in Dweomerheart-

Mystra, having rid herself of Adon, was now returning to her first idea. She would simply throw a party like she had known in her youth. She would do it like she had then, too. She would simply have to invite every one in person.

Dead mortals were no help at all. Especially ones with an IQ similar to that of a banana peel. At the thought of people with a banana-level IQ, Mystra couldn't help but think of Kelemvor. Lord Death would be the first one she would invite! The goddess leapt up from her magical throne of magic and sent an avatar to the Crystal Spire.

Materializing in Kelemvor's throne room, Lady Magic looked around for the God of Death. She frowned in dismay when she realized that Kelemvor wasn't there. A floating black cloak with a pair of white gloves, however, was. She recognized the thing as Jergal, seneschal for the dead.

"Where is Kelemvor? I have something that I would like to share with him!" Mystra shouted at the poor Jergal-thing.

Jergal flinched in shame. How could he POSSIBLY tell this wondrous creature that his lord was taking a dump? He had failed his duty as aid to the God of Death! He wasn't able to help Mystra! Oh, the HORROR! The SHAME! Shamed beyond measure, Jergal exiled himself to horrible wastelands of the Abyss. The lord of fatalism was instantly eaten by a giant spider. Oh well!

The goddess of Magic was now very pissed off. EVERYONE she talked to was getting eaten by giant spiders! Wait, she didn't talk to Elminster or Drizzt! In fact, Jergal was the only one she talked to that was eaten by a giant spider. Oh well. Stupid continuity.

Kelemvor, having just finished answering the call of nature, came instantly. Even gods can't escape the horror of having to use the bathroom! When he saw Mystra standing in his judgment room, Kelemvor almost decided to return to the Throne of the Dead (his name for his toilet) but decided against it. Maybe she actually had something important to tell him. Like that was possible!

At seeing her former lover, Mystra smiled warmly.

"Kelemvor, I am having a holiday party for the Greater Powers. It will take place in the Pavilion of Cynosure on Yule's Eve. I would be delighted if you could come!" The goddess told Kelemvor.

Kelemvor eyed her suspiciously. "Why? Why do you want to have party? We're gods. We don't need to celebrate those inane mortal holidays anymore. And why didn't you just cast a spell to send out invitations to everyone?"

Mystra balked at her own stupidity. She could have just sent out enchanted invitations! Oh well! She can do that now! Leave it to Kelemvor to correct her stupidity. Even thought he wasn't much smarter, actually.

"Right! I want to have a party because Yule is the time when people come together. I was...kind of hoping that this party would help to bring all the gods together for Yule. Mortals are always happy and loving during this time of year. Maybe, if given the chance, the gods could see this too." Mystra explained to Kelemvor. This explanation was actually a lie, because she really was just bored. Oh well!

Kelemvor rolled his eyes and waved his hand, sending Mystra back to Dweomerheart. The God of Death grimaced in irritation and returned to the Throne of the Dead to finish his business.

Mystra, now excited at the prospect of a holiday party coming to fruition, began to immediately write out the invitations to her fellow Greater Powers.

**End of Chapter 1**

Ack. That was awful, wasn't it? I told you, lots of character bashing. I really don't hate anyone but Mystra and Kelemvor, and I love Drizzt, but it just seemed amusing at the time. Please review. Good reviews or flames, I don't care. Reviews are good. Next chapter will be the invitations.

Reviews, please!


	2. Martha Stewart is the Lady of Pain?

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Forgotten Realms or anything WOTC related. I also do not own Martha Stewart.

WARNING: I love Cyric, I really do, but this is supposed to be humor. No Cyric-bashing is intended. Also, this one contains spoilers for the Return of the Archwizards Trilogy. Ignore any inconsistencies. Yes, Malik and Jergal are the only sane, non-stupid characters in this story, in case you're wondering.

_**Yule With the Gods**_

Chapter 2: **Martha Stewart Lady of Pain**

After his horrible failure in the City of Shade at the hands of the Harper witch, Cyric's Chosen had been punished horribly by the Dark Sun. Malik wished beyond anything in the world that Cyric had given him any punishment but this one. This was the worst torture imaginable. The little man couldn't even bear to look in the mirror, such was the horror.

Still, he couldn't deny the will of the Prince of Lies. Slowly, the pathetic Chosen made his way over to the mirror, which was adorned with various sunburst-and-skull decorations.

Uncovering his eyes, Malik looked upon the horrible appearance his Dark Lord had bestowed upon him. The short, pudgy, bug-eyed little man was wearing a frilly French maid's outfit complete with the lacy bonnet and frilly stockings. His hair was done up in pigtails tied with lacy pink ribbons. Only his pride kept him from crying out in dismay.

Malik decided to suck it up and get on with his new duties. Since Cyric had decided to punish him terribly after his failure, the Chosen was reduced to maid duty. His new job description consisted of cleaning the entirety of the Castle of the Supreme Throne.

Currently, he was busy mopping what appeared to be the living room area.

It looked just like any other living room, except that the walls were covered with grinning, moving images of Cyric and the furniture was all black and purple with an occasional sunburst design thrown in for good measure. Something in front of the sofa caught the little man's attention. It looked like a box, but there was a moving picture inside of it.

Malik dropped his mop and went over to investigate the strange device. On the face of the box, there was a woman that Malik was immediately terrified of. She had a serene expression on her face and had an abundance of whirling cutlery around her. The observers appeared to look as if they were about to be flayed alive, such was the apparent horror of the woman in the box.

The Chosen gasped as he realized who the woman in the box was. While enduring his punishments in Pandemonium, he had heard strange tales of a land called Sigil and its terrifying guardian.

The guardian was supposed to be so horrible that all who looked at her were flayed alive by the whirling knives surrounding her head. Even more terrifying was her supposedly expressionless face which earned her the name Her Serenity.

From these observations, Malik instantly knew that Martha Stewart was the Lady of Pain.

Not wanting to be flayed alive, Malik kicked at the box, causing the image on the front to change. Malik screamed when he saw a laughing yellow sponge appear on the screen. Spongebob Squarepants was too terrifying for the cowardly man to deal with.

Malik delivered a fright-powered kick to the stupid fiend box and panicked.

He dropped everything he was doing and raced out of the living room, getting a nasty glare from one of the Cyric portraits when he knocked it off the wall. Malik quickly apologized to the picture and leaned it against the wall, racing out afterward.

The Seraph of Lies immediately crashed into something upon leaving the living room.

"I apologize! I had to get to-I mean-ARGH!" Mystra's truth spell compelled him to tell the truth.

"I was running from the Lady of Pain and a horrible Archfiend! They're in a box in there!" Malik quickly pointed to the living room. He finally decided to look at what he had crashed into.

Malik immediately let out another scream. He had run smack dab into Jergal.

(He somehow escaped the giant spider.)

The butler of the damned was currently carrying an armful of letters that appeared to be seething with magic. He had a look of extreme irritation etched on his strange features. The Jergal thing removed one of the letters from his arms (apparently, he has more than than two arms) and opened it.

The envelope immediately exploded and left a nasty burn mark on Jergal's mysterious third hand. The former death god winced and held the open letter far away from him as he began to read.

_The Goddess of Magic bids Lord Cyric to attend her upcoming holiday party and asks that he not instantly try to murder the messenger. She also asks that all guests bring some type of food. Preferably not poisoned._

Jergal cringed, as if awaiting a blow or some type of punishment. When Malik only stared at him, the god of fatalism merely shrugged and vanished, leaving the glittery magic-seething letter at Malik's feet.

The cursed man picked the letter up and decided that he must immediately deliver the letter the One and All. Still...Malik couldn't help but wonder why the Harlot would want to invite her hated enemy to a party.

It reeked of intrigue, and Malik would have thought that the Whore had some type of plot to harm his master, but he knew that Mystra wasn't near smart enough to pull something like that off.

Shrugging, the seraph started off toward Cyric's throne room.

Unlike Kelemvor's throne, Cyric's wasn't a toilet. In fact, it had nothing to do with bodily functions at all, unless you counted bleeding to death as a bodily function. Like his former throne in the land of the dead, the Prince of Lies' current throne appeared to be made up of the bones of mortals. Of course, as Cyric was the god of illusions, that was only an illusion.

Cyric wouldn't appear very threatening if he spoke to his enemies while seated on a sofa covered with soft, violet-colored silk, so he kept up the illusion of having a throne of bones.

As Malik entered the throne room, the Dark Sun appeared to be having a very important conversation with himself. Malik resisted the urge to smack his head in frustration. Even though Cyric was cured of his insanity, it still didn't stop him from having severe mental problems.

Malik took a few gulps of air and fully entered the room.

"E-excuse me...Mighty One? S-someone-ack!-Jergal- has given me a letter to give to you."

Cyric glanced up from his nonsensical mutterings and turned his unfocussed gaze upon Malik. He blinked several times, as if waking from a dream, and finally shook his head and gestured for Malik to come nearer.

The Chosen momentarily wondered if his god had gone deaf or if, perhaps, he had forgotten how to read.

Cyric glared angrily at Malik.

"What's wrong, Malik? Did that stupid lackey of the Usurper's do something to you? Did he make you an even bigger idiot than you already are? What did this letter say? You have it? Let me see it."

The One gestured and the magical letter flew from Malik's hand. Cyric's eyes scanned the paper. After reading the letter completely, the Prince of Lies crumpled it up and chucked it at Malik's head with enough force to knock the seraph out.

Leaving Malik unconscious on the floor, Cyric got up from his squishy sofa and made his way to the living room. He would have to contemplate this "invitation" further. What better way to do this then by watching TV?

The God of Strife's eyes narrowed when he noticed one of his pictures leaning against the wall. The Cyric in the picture gestured wildly and pointed at the wall, as if indicating its displeasure at being on the floor. Rolling his eyes, Cyric placed the picture back in its rightful place. The picture-Cyric smiled happily and preened, glad to be back on the wall with the other dozen Cyric pictures.

Cyric's eyes widened when he saw his TV. There was a large hole in the screen and the TV was smoking. The evil god wondered what had caused Malik to damage it so horribly.

**End of Chapter 2**

That was terrible. Cyric is my favorite character, so he got a long chapter. Ack. Please review. Good reviews or flames, I don't care. Reviews are good. Next chapter will be either more Cyric or another one of the Gods.

Reviews, please!


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